


Snow Day

by KassieProphet



Series: Ghost Prompts [50]
Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Fluff, Hot Chocolate, Ice Skating, Other, Reader-Insert, Snow, Snow Day, Snowball Fight, Snowman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:00:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26721799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KassieProphet/pseuds/KassieProphet
Summary: Tumblr Prompt:How would Papa III and Copia be like doing fun snow activities with their s/o?
Relationships: Cardinal Copia/Reader, Papa Emeritus III/Reader, Papa Emeritus IV/Reader
Series: Ghost Prompts [50]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536134
Comments: 53
Kudos: 14





	Snow Day

**Author's Note:**

> I've already down sledding HCs which can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23163691).

**Papa III** : I’ve already headcanoned that [Papa was an excellent ice skater](https://copias-thrall.tumblr.com/post/190141358774/hc-for-copia-and-the-papas-special-interests) in his youth, so expect to be woken up to his luminous visage as he tugs you out of bed, pairs of ice skates slung over his shoulders. Like a kid on his birthday morning, he’s excited that it’s finally cold enough to go skating on the lake on Abbey grounds. As you groggily eat some oatmeal with cinnamon for fortification, Papa is bouncing about and showing you all the designer outerwear he got you to keep warm, but not overheated. 

Once on the lake, you’re like a baby fawn—mincing along on the ice and trying not to let your legs splay apart too far. Papa does a few rounds—backwards—then tries a few jumps whose landings he _just_ manages to stick. (You’ll admit to hoping unkindly he’ll land on his ass at least once.)

You finally get your “ice legs,” and have at least been able to skate in a straight line while he lapped you time and time again … but after a while, your muscles are screaming “uncle.” He’s still got the muscle memory (and the bubble butt), but running around and thrusting on stage ≠ the same tone he needs to keep up with skating around for hours like he used to. Slyly using your discomfort as an excuse, he ushers you off the ice.

Still breathless, blood pumping, except for Papa to “accidentally” fall down into the snow, taking you with him. As he presses you into the powder, you squeal at the cold damp beginning to seep into your outerwear, but he just gives you a line about the ice-cold being a balm to your throbbing glutes. You’re of a mind to indulge his lascivious advances, but the instant snow creeps down your pants, you’re pushing him off you and telling him to use that snow to ease his throbbing …

Even as you try to build a snowman, Papa’s still more interested in getting into your snow suit and absolutely no help at all! You do end up constructing a snowman, despite his pawing—but it’s ill-proportioned and lopsided. When you pout at him, Papa does feel a little bad and tries to fix it for you. And the creation is … better, but the two of you watch as one of the stick arms droops, then falls.

He’s contrite, but you just laugh and kiss him. You tell him that now he has to make it up to you. Eyes shining, he pulls you back toward the Abbey (you both were beginning to feel the chill now that you weren’t moving about as much, anyway), and ushers you into his bathroom suite. 

After adding some Epsom salts and getting the temperature _just right_ , Papa helps you into his tub and turns on the jets—a perfect remedy for your increasingly sore leg muscles—but he doesn’t join you right away. He disappears for at least 10min—during which you add more hot water and try not to doze off—but when he comes back, it’s with a tray and steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

The beverage is a welcome one, but when you bring the mug up to your mouth, you see that the mix is still grainy and floating a bit above the water. Papa looks so proud, though, that you take a few (lukewarm) sips and tell him it’s yummy. You smile at the thought of teaching him how to make the proper kind—it’s going to be a long winter and you can’t wait for more snow dates.

**Copia** : He likes to be warm—you’re more likely to find him snuggled up by the fire with an ancient tome than frolicking in a fresh snowfall. He’s easily convinced, however—especially if it’s by you or one of his  ~~ feral children ~~ Ghouls. The silly man will attempt to go out in just his overcoat and a wool scarf and then complain about the chill; you’re going to have to make sure to dress him appropriately … and be prepared for him to grumble about the constricting layers the whole time.

Once you get outside, you’ll be clambering to make snow angels, but Copia is dubious—a damp bottom should only be because of one thing (him). He watches bemused as you lay down and start moving your limbs to displace the power. He tries to remain distanced from this whole snow endeavor—that is until Swiss creams him in the face with a bodacious snowball. His dislike of cold snow is trumped only by his need to be The Best, and after everyone holds their breath to see if he’ll flip out, Copia dives down to pack snow together to prove he’s king of the snow hill.

An all-out snowball fight ensues with tenuous alliances, shifting loyalties, and utter betrayal. Don’t expect being Copia’s lover to stop anyone (including him) from shoving snow down your shirt during this battle royale. You learn that he’ll absolutely play dirty after he seems to tug you in for a kiss … only to smash a snowball into you before whooping at your shriek and pirouetting away. (It’s ok: you sneak attack him and stuff a nice, icy snowball down the back of his pants, chortling when he squeals the instant it melts down to his balls.)

By the end, you’re both glowing from the exertion with ruddy cheeks from the cold air. Copia is looking at you with bright eyes and tries to initiate a makeout sesh under a snow-covered Evergreen—that’s rudely interrupted by Dewdrop tugging on the branch above you, covering both of you in a drifts of snow. You’re both indignant, Copia ready to bury the Gremlin up to his neck, until Aether gathers him up and dumps him in the freezing stream.

You and Copia choose to take that moment to make your getaway from the squad of troublemakers—admittedly you’re beginning to feel the creep of the chill in your snow-damp clothes, and some hot chocolate in front of his fire sounds like an amazing idea. Copia still tries to steal a kiss or two—to warm his lips up, he says—on the slog back.

Back in his quarters, Copia has fluffy robes for you to change into, even though you’re actually feeling overheated now that you’ve gone from the brisk winter air into the heat of the Abbey. When you see that he’s not in his study, you do a search only to find him in his kitchenette making hot chocolate from milk, baker’s bars, and a little sprinkle of cayenne, “just for kick.”

As you curl up on his sofa next to him, you finally feel the activities of the day in your marrow: all the running around and wading through snow, coupled with a warm belly in front of a fire is making your limbs and head feel heavy; you doze off to the sound of Copia reading, the crackle of the fire, and the feel of him stroking your hair.


End file.
